Family
by Slicklizard41
Summary: There's nothing more important than family. Kirk and his crew take solace in one another and are reminded again and again that they are not just captain and crew, but a family.
1. Chapter 1

James T. Kirk watched intently as ice dropped into the glass in front of him and bartender filled it four fingers high with single malt. He'd never wanted a drink so bad in him life... At least not in his second life. Jim took the glass and saluted his bartender with it before taking the first drink.

The alcohol burned as it slid down his throat. It's great to be alive, he thought as the ice clinked against the side of the glass.

"Captain," an all too familiar voice broke into his thoughts startling him and causing Kirk to spill half his drink down the front of his shirt.

Jim cursed as he brushed at the damp spots. "Mister Spock. What can I do for you?" he asked without turning to the Vulcan standing at his side.

"Captain, you were not answering your communicator," Spock answered matter-of-factly.

"I left it back in my quarters."

"Sir, Doctor McCoy gave you implicit instructions to go home and rest."

"Well, I'm resting here on this barstool. I'm just not at home. And Spock," Jim said finally turning to look at the Vulcan, "I thought we'd made progress with that."

Spock's brow furrowed. "I'm not sure I understand, sir."

"That. Right there. It's Jim, not sir or even captain right now. I'm on medical leave for the next few months. You're in charge of the crew until I'm deemed fit to return to duty."

"I do not see how that pertains to our conversation."

"Never mind," Jim said, rolling his eyes. "Continue, Mr. Spock."

"As I was saying, Captain-"

"Jim," he interrupted, speaking into his drink.

"You are still recovering. Intoxication is a very unwise choice."

"It's one drink," Jim insisted studying his first officer's stoic expression. "In fact, you should have one yourself. You might actually relax for once. Bartender, get this man something... Vulcan. Or better yet, Romulan. The stronger, the better."

"Kirk!" another familiar voice rang across the length of the bar.

"Seriously?" Jim asked, turning again to Spock.

Before Spock could answer, Uhura was by his side with fire in her eyes. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she asked.

"I'm just having-" Jim protested.

"No. I don't want to hear it. Do you have any idea what we thought when Spock couldn't find you?"

Jim tried to look innocent. "That I was having a-"

"We'd thought you'd jumped off a bridge or something. You haven't been yourself since you woke up. We thought the worst."

"We?" he asked. Jim took a good look at his first officer and communications officer standing so close to each other that their arms touched. He'd long since excepted the two were involved but he hadn't really taken a chance to really wrap his head around that. Now standing in front of him he could see it. They were fire and ice; one all heated passion and the other cool calculating logic. A real life ying and yang. A laugh burst from between his lips and he glanced at the bartender again who had just produced an odd looking cloudy drink that he set in front of Spock. "And the lovely lady will have a Jack Daniels."

Uhura scowled. "Kirk, this isn't funny."

"Relax. Both of you. I'm fine-"

"Aye, Cap'n," a third figure called, bobbing around a handful of barflies. "When ye wasn't in ye quarters, I figured I'd find ye here." Scotty stopped on Jim's opposite side and dropped his PADD on the bar top.

"Did they call you too?" Jim accused.

"No, but I wish ye would have. I could use a drink after going over these schematics. These upgrades are going to take months!"

"Bartender," Jim called. "Scotty'll have a-"

"Scotch. On the rocks. But like I was sayin, these upgrades are going to take months to implement, not to even mention the repairs from the damage she took. The Enterprise, she'll be docked for ages. Here. Take a look," Scotty said typing on the PADD's touch screen.

"Spock's in charge while I'm on leave. Have him look at it," Jim answered, flipping his hand toward his first officer.

"That may be so, but she's still ye ship-"

"There you are!" Yet another voice bellowed from behind him.

"The good doctor's here," Jim said with a small smile as he turned on his stool.

"Damnit, Jim. When I said you were supposed to go home and get some rest that wasn't short hand for go to the bar and have drink."

"And a Kentucky bourbon," Jim called over his shoulder. "Bones. What brings you here?"

"Don't get me started, Jim." Bones began searching through the medical bag slung over his shoulder before pulling out a bright silver instrument.

"I'm fine, Bones, and don't you dare touch me with that thing."

"Don't be a damn child," Bones muttered as he held the instrument a few inches from Jim's forehead.

"Enough," Jim finally growled. "All of you. I'm fine. I came here because I'm fine and just wanted a damn drink. But I'm starting to think its you people need a drink and to just relax for a few minutes." Reaching over his shoulder and retrieving the Kentucky bourbon, Jim shoved the drink into Bones' free hand. "Take a drink. You'll feel better once you've loosened up a bit."

Over Bones' shoulder, Jim spotted two more familiar faces weaving their way through the crowd to join the semi-circle of his crew now surrounding him.

"Really?" Jim asked glancing at Spock, who merely answered by raising a single eyebrow. Turning back to the newcomers and pointing his thumb at his first officer, he asked, "Did he call you two?"

"No, sir," Sulu answered a little startled. He held up the beer in his hand and continued, "It's Chekov's birthday. We were just out celebrating and noticed the five of you over here..."

"It's your birthday?" Jim asked wondering how he could have missed that. Although, he had been dead and then in a coma for two weeks...

"Yes, sir," Chekov answered also holding up his beer. "I'm eighteen, now."

Jim laughed and smiled brightly. "You know, Mister Chekov, two hundred years ago you would have had to wait until you were 21 before you could legally buy a beer."

"Thank god times have changed," Bones muttered, standing next to the young ensign.

"Well, this calls for a toast," Jim said raising his glass. The rest of the semi-circle followed suit, some more reluctantly than others. "To young Mister Chekov... To life... To friends... And to...family."

Glasses clinked, 'here, heres' were said, and drinks were downed, except for a certain Vulcan who discretely returned the glass to the bar top without so much as a sip. One by one Jim watched them relax... All but Spock, who Jim was sure didn't know how to relax.

When Jim's eyes caught Spock's, the Vulcan's eyes widened slightly and he gave the very slightest of nods before speaking so softly that only the captain could hear. "Jim."

Jim smiled even more brightly at his crew as crew as he turned to watch them interact. He sighed inwardly knowing that he would do it all again. Die to save his crew... His friends... His family.

* * *

**This may or may not turn into a continuing collections of one shots. I guess it will all depend on how inspired I get.**


	2. Chapter 2

The old Vulcan stood at the edge of the concrete plaza, the towers of Starfleet headquarters behind him. He held his hands clasped behind his back as he looked out onto the damaged city of San Francisco.

A younger Vulcan approached cautiously to stand next his older counterpart mimicking his stance.

"I did not expect to see you here on Earth with the New Vulcan colony still in the process of establishment."

"I felt that it would be helpful for me to offer my knowledge," the older man answered without turning. "It is unfortunate that this city had to suffer such a great loss. Humans are resilient, though. Historically, it took Vulcan a millennia to rebuild from war and devastation. Humans have seen this kind of devastation before. It will only take them a fraction of time to rebuild and they will be stronger because of this. That is their nature."

"Of course," the younger of the two confirmed keeping his outward appearance neutral although inwardly he couldn't help but despair. Recent events had made it exponentially difficult to control his human emotions.

For a moment they were both silent, studying the damage the city before them had sustained a mere two months before. Finally, the older Vulcan turned to his younger self. "I also felt that you might require a confidant to discuss what has recently transpired."

For a moment the younger Spock hesitated, but decided it was best to be direct. "I am concerned about my inability to control my emotional outburst when Jim died. And for that matter I am concerned over the depth of those emotions as well."

"Yes. I quite understand your difficulties. We are half human. It is in our nature even though it contradicts everything we were taught as Vulcans."

"I am not sure I am comfortable with such strong emotions."

"No. I would not expect you to be."

"How are you able to maintain control? If we are one and the same, should I not have that ability as well?"

"I have spent a lifetime trying to be more Vulcan. I have been ostracized because I was either too human or too Vulcan. I was not able to find balance in my duality until very late in my life." The two Vulcans began to walk across the plaza, evenly matching each others pace.

"It will take me a lifetime as well?" the younger of the two asked, his eyes widening and an eyebrow lifting.

"I do not believe so. You have already experienced events at a young age that I didn't experience until I was an old man. Because of this I believe you will find your peace between Vulcan and humanity much earlier in your life. There is a great destiny before you... Much greater than in my own time line."

"I am still unsure about my reaction to the captain-Jim's death. I have come to understand that he is my friend, but my response was illogical" the younger Spock admitted after a few moments.

"Yes. Love is a difficult emotion to understand...even for humans. Tell me. How do you feel about Lieutenant Uhura?"

"I-I am not sure I understand," the younger said raising a startled eyebrow.

"Do you not?" the older Spock asked, this time raising his own eyebrow.

After contemplating the idea for a moment, the younger Vulcan answered. "I feel great affection for her."

"And had she perished instead of Jim, would your reaction have been different?"

The younger of the two stopped in quiet thought. He knew in an instant he would have. Spock knew his affection for Jim was different than what he felt for Nyota, but still not quite as simple as friendship. His affection for Jim was more like how half toward his mother, or his father, as volatile as their relationship could often be, or...a brother.

The elder Spock allowed a small smile to tug at the edges of his lips, recognizing the look of understanding washing over his younger self. "Remember what I told you when we first met. Your friendship will define the two of you in ways you cannot imagine. Perhaps more in this timeline than even in my own." The elder Vulcan rested a hand on the younger's shoulder. "I believe our mother would be proud."


	3. Chapter 3

"What the hell?!" Jim's eyes grew huge. "No. You are not pawning that thing off on me."

"It's just a tribble. It's harmless," McCoy answered crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the door frame of Jim's quarters.

"Hmmph." He lifted the cage up to eye level and peered at the furry little creature. Jim raised an eyebrow and asked through the mesh, "it is one of the non-breeding ones, right?"

"At first I wasn't sure," McCoy admitted after a moment of hesitation. "The thing was dead after all. But seeing as the fur ball hasn't multiplied and its been over two months, I think you're in the clear."

Jim lowered the cage and shot McCoy a curious look. "You mean this is the one from sickbay? The one you injected with-?"

"Of course it is. Now will you let me in?"

Jim smiled thinly as he stepped aside to let Bones in. Retreating into the living area, he glanced around at all the flat suffices finally deciding to perch the tribble and its cage on a shelf next to his collection of antique records. "What'd ya think?" Jim asked turning to find himself alone. "Bones?"

"In here," he called from the kitchen.

Jim padded around a corner and stopped. McCoy had already set out two glasses with ice and was filling one with an amber liquid from his flask. "Isn't it early for a drink?"

"Yeah, well, sometimes a man'll tell his bartender things he'll never tell his doctor." With that, he handed Jim one of the glasses.

Jim took a drink, savoring the burn down his throat. "Aren't you going to have one too?" he asked, gesturing to the other glass on the counter.

"Oh no. Not until I'm done giving you an exam." Jim moaned as he sank into a nearby chair. "For god's sake, Jim. Don't be so dramatic." Rummaging in the bag over his shoulder, McCoy finally pulled out a tri-corder. "Just hold still. This will only take a minute."

Jim took another drink as McCoy's tri-corder hovered over his forehead taking measurements and calculations. McCoy studied the machine's readout quickly before slipping it back in the bag. "Well, Bones? Am I as healthy as a horse?" Jim asked.

McCoy merely grunted in response. A second later he pulled out a vial of clear liquid and a hypo spray injector. "You could use a vitamin supplement and to lose a couple pounds. Being on medical leave doesn't give you permission to just eat and drink whatever you please."

McCoy filled the injection chamber with the vial of serum and Jim's eyes grew huge.

"Oh hell no!" Jim cried slamming his half empty drink down so hard on the counter next to him that a little of the amber liquid spilled over the rim and the ice nearly jumped out of the glass. "Don't you come near me with that thing. I don't care what you say. Those things hurt."

Jim tried to stand, but McCoy was already standing over him, blocking his escape. "You have one bad reaction and you think every injection hurts. I'm telling you, Jim. Hypo spray was created to be painless." Jim screwed up his face and winced as the injector came in contact with his skin. "Child," McCoy mumbled, stepping back.

"Are you done now?" Jim asked indigent and rubbing the side of his neck.

"Yeah. We're done, for the moment," McCoy answered moving to fill his neglected glass. He turned to look out of one of the multitude of windows in Jim's quarters. Cleanup on the city had begun almost immediately, but there was still a lot to be done in the city to repair the damage done by that beast of a ship. It had taken a couple months, a few dozen of Starfleet's most brilliant engineers, including their own Mr. Scott, and massive machinery to get rid of that eyesore. It hadn't been until the Vengeance was gone that they were able to see the full extent of the damage.

McCoy rolled that thought around in his mind a moment before turning to Jim. "You're body seems to be recovering fairly well, but how are you feeling, Jim? Mentally speaking, of course." McCoy took a drink, eyeing Jim carefully.

"I'm fine," Jim answered defiantly, throwing back the last of his drink. McCoy raised an eyebrow over the edge of his glass. Jim slammed his empty glass down again, the ice, this time, jumped over the rim and skittered across the counter before falling to the floor. "Hell, Bones. What do you want from me? I'm feeling guilty, okay? Guilty because so many people died under my command and I couldn't do anything to save them. Guilty because all of those innocent people died down here when the Vengeance crashed into the bay. Guilty because Captain Pike was right..." Jim angrily trailed off until his voice was just above a whisper. "I wasn't ready for the chair."

"It's okay, Jim," McCoy said moving to stand next to him and resting a hand on Jim's shoulder. They were both silent for a moment. "At least you can admit that you're not completely fine. Hell, I'd be more worried you didn't feel anything."

"You'd think I lost my mind?" Jim asked, a smile playing on his lips as he looked up at McCoy.

"No. More like you'd turned into a damn Vulcan." McCoy finished his drink, set his glass down and gathered up his bag and flask. "Have thought about visiting the psychiatric clinic?"

Jim was quiet for a moment before answering, "I doubt I'll be given a choice if I ever want my ship back." McCoy only nodded and turned to leave. "You're going? Already?" Jim asked, a little bewildered, following McCoy as he walked to the door.

"Of course. I came to give you a checkup since you refuse to come into the clinic. Now I have to go back to my office and write up the report." McCoy stopped when he reached the door and waited in the opening. "You know, Jim, I didn't tell you this before, but you damn near gave me a heart attack bringing you back from the dead. I really don't want to have to do that again." A sly smile spread across McCoy's face. "At least promise me you won't go climbing into any warp cores in the future."

"Well, Bones," Jim said clapping McCoy on the shoulder, "I don't know if I can promise you that, but I will definitely do my best to try." Jim grinned from ear to ear. "It's not exactly something I'd like to do again."

McCoy grunted under his breath and rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say," he mumbled as he stepped through the opening. "And take care of the damn tribble," he called back to a grinning Jim as the door swooshed closed.


	4. Chapter 4

"Mister Scott. Mister Scott," the young ensign called hurrying off of the lift, his gold shirt catching the eye of many of the engineers working at their consoles.

"Aye," Montgomery Scott answered barely looking up from the tablet in his hand. "What can I do for ye today, Chekov? An dinnin I tell you before to call me Scotty?"

"Yes. Of course, sir."

"Spit it out, laddie. I donna have all day." Scotty took a good look at the eager young tactical officer.

"Commander Spock wanted me to bring these schematics to you right away for inspection." Chekov raised the tablet he was holding in the air. "He thought you might be pleased with some of the new additions to the ship."

"Additions?!" Scotty blurted. "It's taken months just to do repairs and get basic operations up an running again, now there are more additions on toppa the upgrades Starfleet has already got me working on."

Chekov continued to hold the tablet out to Scotty. "I think you will be wery pleased."

Eying the you ensign, Scotty finally took the tablet. It took a moment for the older engineer to comprehend before he let out a cry of excitement that drew discrete looks from some of the red-shirted workers near him. "D'you know what this means?" Scotty asked, a huge grin on his face.

Chekov nodded enthusiastically.

"With the newest in transporter technology I canna put my transwarp equations to the real test." Scotty laughed giddily. "That bloody Vulcan. How did he get Starfleet to agree to it?"

"I... I think it was the keptin," Chekov answered.

"Really? Jim? That sly bastard. Wonna ever put anathin past him," Scotty said giving a small laugh.

Scotty tapped through a few screens on Chekov's tablet, transferring the new schematics to his own before giving the tablet back. Scotty was already glued to the plans as he handed Chekov back his own.

Chekov stood patiently as he waited for Scotty to look up.

"Is there somethin else ya need, Mr. Chekov?" Scotty asked curiously.

"I was wondering, sir, if I could continue my studies of the engineering division on my free time."

"Still haven't learned everythin you could even after steppin in me shoes?"

"No, sir. And with the addition of so many new upgrades, I think it would be wery useful to be up to date on engineering's capabilities."

Scotty looked the eager young ensign over and grinned. "Aye, common then, laddie. You stick with me and I'll teach you everything you'll need to know to keep me ship in pristine order. You might even find yourself wearin a red shirt again in the future."

Chekov smiled a bit nervously. "I think I'd prefer to keep my gold one, sir."

Scotty shrugged, laughter still in his eyes. He turned and motioned for Chekov to follow him. "Suit yeself, laddie. An diddin I tell ye ta call me Scotty?"

* * *

**I apologize for the shorter, kind of eh, chapter... I'm not nearly as confidant with Chekov's voice as I am with other characters.**


	5. Chapter 5

Jim grunted, feinting to the left and striking to the right.

A muffled laugh came from his opponent as he expertly dodged the blow before whirling and striking his own.

Jim swore loudly as the blunt tip of his opponent's foil touched the center of his chest. "Dammit, Sulu. How am I ever going to learn if all you do is keep beating me?" he asked tearing his face mask off.

Sulu, still holding the point of his foil to Jim's chest, slid his own mask over his head and grinned. "You're getting better though. Your parries are better. I'm not getting threw them nearly as easily anymore and your feint was pretty good too. What you really need to work on are your thrusts. They're pretty wild. I can see them coming from a mile away."

Jim grunted and wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. He eyed his competitor as Sulu stepped off the strip to drink from a nearby water bottle. He could barely believe it. Sulu didn't look like he'd broken a sweat at all in the last fourth-five minutes.

"You look like you use a break, Jim. Maybe a drink of water?" Sulu asked, noticing his commanding officer studying him.

For a moment, Jim nearly opened his mouth to argue but then thought better of it. Begrudgingly Jim followed Sulu to take a drink from his own water bottle. He let himself sit, or rather, fall onto the bench placed along the wall in a way similar to how a sack of potatoes falls when dropped from above. He groaned and Sulu raised a single eyebrow.

"Are you okay, Jim?"

"I'm fine."

Setting his water bottle down and leaning his foil up against the wall, Sulu shot him a curious look. "What made you decide to take up fencing all of the sudden? Don't get me wrong. I'm really enjoying kicking your ass, but fencing isn't your average midwesterner's sport."

"Yeah, well, Bones told me I needed a hobby. Apparently he was getting tired of me moping. And you did make fencing look pretty bad ass."

As much as he hated to admit it, Bones had been right. He was out of shape too. Apparently, being injected with super-serum didn't automatically make you into a superman. Too bad. That could have been awesome. "How is the crew?" Jim asked, changing the topic and not wanting to talk about how he was feeling for a change.

Sulu sat down next to him and gave Jim a look of slight bewilderment. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you know a good number of the Enterprise's crew, especially the relief bridge. How have they been coping?" He asked Sulu knowing he would give a straight answer unlike Bones who danced around the question or Spock who insisted that he was unable to discern the crew's emotional situation.

Sulu was silent for a few moments. "At first," he began carefully, "there just seemed be despair, mostly, for the losses in San Francisco and on the ship." A pang of guilt hit Jim square in the chest. "You know, I was born here, in San Francisco, and I'll be honest, I've never seen anything like this before."

Jim sat quietly, his face paling. He felt personally responsible for every single one of those losses. If he'd only thought things through... Not acted so impulsively...

"I know what you're thinking, Jim. You just can't blame yourself. Everyone felt the same way. We all wanted Kahn." Sulu turned to watch as Jim took a deep breath. "Besides, every person that steps on that ship knows there's always a chance of not coming back. You saved the lives of as many people as you could. Who knows the number of lives that would have been lost if Marcus had continued his crusade."

"Who says this war isn't already waging? Who's to say the Klingons won't attack next week... Next month... Next year?"

"That's why the Enterprise needs a strong captain. The way I see it, Jim, is you have two options. You can let the guilt swallow you up or you can take everything that's happened, learn from it, and become a better man because of it." Sulu patted Jim lightly on the shoulder. Personally, I hope you take the second option."

Jim raised an eyebrow at his friend. "That's very profound, Mr. Sulu. Should I be keeping an eye on my chair?" Jim asked, beaming.

One side of Sulu's mouth curled up in a sly smile. "All in good time," he answered vaguely before both men burst in laughter. "Back to work?" he asked a minute later as he stood and retrieved his foil from against the wall. "Maybe you'll even last a little longer this time."

"You're on," Jim answered, determined.


	6. Chapter 6

Uhura scowled as she sat back on her heels and folded her arms over her chest.

"You are angry," Spock observed in his usual mild tone. He gracefully unfurled himself from where he was sprawled in front of her on the soft mat and stood. He reached out to help her stand, a very human gesture she knew he did for no one besides her, but she ignored his hand and stood on her own.

She was angry. He was right. "You're not trying," she replied coolly, her tone somewhat lost on the Vulcan.

Spock cocked his head slightly to the right and stared back at Uhura bewildered. "I am teaching you _Suus mahna_, as you requested," he finally answered. "Is that not what you wanted?"

"No... I mean, yes," she said holding her arms tightly crossed over her chest, "I want you to teach me _Suus mahna_, but you're treating me with kid gloves," Uhura sighed.

"Kid gloves?" he asked, one eyebrow slightly raised. "This is an old earth idiom. I have heard it before, but I am unclear of its meaning."

"It means that you're treating me like I'm delicate or breakable." Her face softened and one corner of Uhura's mouth turned up in a hint of a smile.

A crease formed between his eyebrows. "But humans are, by definition, not as strong as Vulcans. The gravity on Vulcan is...was much stronger making our bodies able to withstand much more. Nyota, I do not wish to hurt you."

Uhura's face softened and her arms fell to her sides. "I know you don't want to hurt me. But, if you don't try, I'm never going to learn properly. You can't just let me win every time."

"You seem to be learning the movements precisely."

Uhura nearly threw her hands into the air. She was frustrated and Spock just didn't seem to understand. "Maybe, but it's like," she said, searching for the right words to explain the situation, "learning to dance. You can learn every step perfectly from a book, but when put to music the dance becomes alive and ever changing. Fighting is similar. I can learn all the movements in proper sequence, but I can't learn how to apply those movements in an ever evolving fight without an opponent that pushes me."

"I cannot allow myself to hurt you either intentionally or unintentionally. It is unacceptable."

Inside she fumed. If it had been anyone else, Uhura would have walked away right then. But this was Spock, she reasoned with herself. He was only doing what he felt was logical and reasonable.

His eyes pleaded as he spoke. "Please, Nyota, let me help you understand." His voice was soft and, almost, emotional as he held up his hand in a question.

She swallowed hard, knowing perfectly well what he was asking permission to do. She nodded once, looking back into his hopeful dark eyes.

He reached with his hand to her face, letting his fingertips brush across her cheek in search of the proper nerve endings.

Uhura sighed when his fingers found the sensitive nerves and Spock's eyes snapped shut. Warmth enveloped her from the tips of her long eyelashes to the ends of her toes. It was a feeling, although unnerving a first, had become more cherished to her than the spoken words. This wasn't the first time they had melded.

_I love you, Nyota._ Spock's familiar words echoed in her mind, swirling amidst images of her... As a student, challenging a grade... At her post on the bridge, smiling softly as he watched her work... Her, standing alone on the observation deck, watching the stars glide quickly by. _I cannot bare to lose you._

It was then, that she could feel it, the fear that bubbled in the back of his mind. Uhura gasped. The emotion was buried so far back, but yet was so powerful that tears welled in the corners of her eyes. She felt his fear of loosing her, of not being able to protect her, of her broken and in pain and he not being able to save her. An image flashed before her... Of a Klingon with his hand wrapped around her neck, choking the air from her lungs. Then the image shifted and she felt the pain and sorrow as his captain, the man he called brother, lay slowly dying in front of him on the _Enterprise_.

"Spock," Uhura said calmly and his eyes snapped back open breaking the intensity of the meld. Slowly the warmth returned, enveloping her once more. She saw a flicker of regret flash over his face. He had not meant for his emotions to spill over so intensely. "Spock," she said again, softer this time.

"I am sorry. I do not wish to burden you with my fears." Spock leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers. He breathed a sigh of relief for sharing what he had been struggling with.

"Spock, I love you, too. And I may be human, but I'm tough. I want to learn _Suus mahna_ so that you don't have to fear... At least not for a long time." Her smile was warm and bright... And full of love.

Uhura's one hand rose to brush Spock's smooth cheek. Her other reached for his free hand. Curling two fingers to her palm, she pressed the other two fingers to his in the intimate Vulcan gesture he'd taught her before tipping her chin up to touch her lips to his in a very human kiss. "You will not lose me," she said finally as his hands moved to her back, pulling her closer until there was almost no room for the clothing that separated them.

Uhura smiled against his lips as she kissed him once again.


	7. Chapter 7

Jim ran.

His feet pounded along on the concrete pathways of Starfleet headquarters and the academy. There were only a handful of others out in the early morning sunshine. Jim was not excited to be one of them.

He eyed the security personnel scattered about as he ran by. The campus had begun to seem more and more like a military base in the aftermath of the previous six months. On one hand, Jim appreciated the extra security and the protection. But on the other, would they...could they ever return to normal?

A disaster like this had not happened on earth since well before he had been born. Jim had only the texts he'd learned in years of history classes while growing up for reference. Would history repeat itself?

He was in deep contemplation and passed one of the towers that houses female officers when a familiar voice called out, "Jim! Jim Kirk, hold up!"

He stopped abruptly and turned with a smile. "Lieutenant Uhura, what are you doing out and about so ridiculously early in the morning."

"I'm about to start my morning run. Mind if I join you?" she asked gesturing to her leggings and tank top as she jogged up beside him. "I could ask you the same question, though. You're not one of the usual runners at this hour."

Jim smirked and shook his head as they began jogging, side by side, along the footpath. "Bones," he answered finally.

"Dr. McCoy?" Uhura asked turning her head to eye Jim, her long ponytail swishing from side to side as she ran. "He's making you take up early morning running?"

"Not exactly," he answered between puffs of air, his breathing a bit more labored than he'd like it to be. "I have an exhaustive physical coming up." He inhaled deeply. "My medical leave is nearly up and I need to pass this physical in order to be reinstated." Another breath. "You know how much of a stickler Bones is with all things medical."

She laughed in spite of herself and Jim gave her a sideways glance. "I'm sorry, Jim. It's just that I don't know anyone else who is so averse to receiving medical care," Uhura said between strides.

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure he's been putting something extra in his hyposprays just for me because, damnit, they hurt," Jim insisted. "Sadistic sonofa-" he muttered under his breath.

"Jim." Uhura chided, cutting him off.

They both laughed lightly as they continued to run in near silence for a while longer, looping around the academy campus. They both smiled brightly as they teased, pushing the each other to run faster.

"How are you feeling, Captain?" Uhura prodded, noticing Jim's heavy puffs of breath.

"I'm-" Puff- "fine-" Puff.

Uhura repressed the the urge to giggle at his determination to not show her how much he was struggling. The captain really wasn't in all that bad of shape for being off duty for so long, but Jim didn't know that running was something she'd been doing since almost before she could walk, and she wasn't about to let him in on that secret.

"I'm turning into Bones," he grumbled as they slowed and he could finally catch his breath. "He's the one that hates running."

Just outside of a tall building, they both stopped. Jim bent over, his hands on his knees and breathing deeply.

The building in front of them was one of the towers that housed the living quarters for many of the male officers stationed at Starfleet headquarters. Specifically, this was the home of the captain and Dr. McCoy.

Jim groaned as he straightened and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm. "I should have started back running a while ago. I thought I would be in better shape what with Sulu teaching me to fence."

"Fence?" Uhura asked sitting down in the plush grass in front of the building and stretching her limbs out in front of her.

"Yep. The guy's got some serious skills. Have you ever seen him kick ass with a sword?"

Uhura shook her head.

"It's bad ass. Plus, I figure being able to sword fight has to attract the ladies."

This time Uhura couldn't hold back and laughter burst from between her lips. "I'm sorry, Jim," she said peering at his boyish grin as she wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. "You just can't help yourself, can you?"

"It's all part of my charm." He shook his head, still grinning, before offering his hand to help Uhura off of the soft grass. "Come on," he said. "I have cold water upstairs."

For a moment she hesitated but then shrugged her shoulders and stood. Jim wasn't just her captain, but her friend. And, she was curious to see what the inside of his living quarters actually looked like.

They took the lift up to the tenth floor and Uhura followed as Jim led her to a door halfway down the hall. He stepped aside as the door to his quarters slid smoothly to the side. "Come on in," Jim said, gesturing inside.

Curiosity got the best of her and Uhura stepped eagerly through the doorway and into the apartment's living room. Everywhere she looked, Jim's quarters held antiques, mostly from the 20th and 21st centuries... Including a massive record collection lining rows of shelves on one side of the room.

"Wow, Jim. Records. I never would have guessed that about you. It's absolutely fascinating," she called.

"Fascinating?" he asked, stepping up beside her and raising a single eyebrow. He offered a cold bottle of water.

She quickly covered her mouth as a giggle escaped. "Sorry. I have a tendency to pick up things from the people I'm around often."

Jim grinned in amusement, but a minute later the smile faltered. "How is he?" he finally asked.

Uhura glanced sideways at Jim through her long eyelashes. "He is doing...well. He was struggling for a while, trying to make peace with the intense emotional rampage after...well, you know. He's had some fruitful discussions with the other Spock and I think he's found some resolution. On top of it all, he's looking forward to handing command back to you."

Jim beamed even brighter at her last comment. He couldn't wait to have his command back either, as long as Starfleet deemed him fit.

Uhura's eyes continued to rove over Jim's record collection until her gaze landed on a small cage perched at the end of one of the shelves. "Really? Jim, you've got a tribble?" She stepped closer as she asked, sticking her finger in between the thin wires and scratched at the body of the little furry creature. It cooed and purred at her touch.

"Yeah, well," Jim snorted, "the tribble wasn't exactly my idea. I don't really like them."

"You're kidding?" Uhura glanced over her shoulder, a look of astonishment on her face. "Then why do you have one?"

"It's a long story," he answered shrugging.

Uhura turned back to the cage and scratched at the creature again, listening to its happy purrs. "They're so cute," she cooed.

"Take it."

"Are you sure?"

Jim gently lifted the small cage off the shelf and pressed it into her hands. "Please," he answered.

Uhura grinned back at her captain and handed him the bottle of water she hadn't even opened. "I know just what to do with it."


	8. Chapter 8

Pavel Chekov dropped down into the soft grass below one of the park's ancient oak trees. He wiped beads of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. Once he'd caught his breath, he proceeded to twirl a bright yellow frisbee using a single finger. After a moment of contemplation, he turned to his dark haired friend sitting next to him in the tree's shade. "Do you think ze rumors are true?"

Hikaru Sulu shrugged. "I don't know, Pavel. Honestly, I'm just happy to still be assigned to the _Enterprise_. Hell, it isn't even a done deal that Starfleet will give her back to Jim."

"Ov course, ov course. But I can't help but think zat with all ze new upgrades Starfleet has implemented on ze _Enterprise_, ve must be the ship to get the new mission."

Hikaru snatched the frisbee away from Pavel and began spinning it between two fingers. "Five years exploring deep space. Can you imagine the things we might see?"

"Ze places we'll go..." Pavel looked up into the the blue sky as if he was trying to see past the clouds and the stars to the galaxies beyond. "Five years iz a long time on a ship. What would you bring with?"

Hikaru rolled the idea over in his head for a few minutes before answering. "I think... I think I would bring my plants."

"Your plants?" Chekov asked. He hadn't ever heard his friend mention anything about plants before.

"Yeah. My dad was a botanist and his interest sort of rubbed off on me. If piloting and the command track hadn't worked out, I would have gone into the science devision. Besides," he said, smiling to himself, "wouldn't it be interesting to see how well earth plant life could hold up in space?"

Chekov didn't answer at first. He wasn't really sure what to say at first. He knew his own track would have been different if command wouldn't have worked out, but it wouldn't have been the science devision. He would have been in engineering. Chekov had a mind more for mathematical thought than biological. Fleetingly he wondered if in the other timeline had they both done things differently then and still ended up friends?

"I'd bring a really good bottle wodka," Chekov answered finally, turning to grin at Sulu. "Who knows what they have to drink on other planets. I want to make sure I have something good."

Sulu laughed. "Just one bottle? Five years is a long mission."

"You're right," Chekov mused, reaching over and flicking the frisbee from his friend's hands and into the grass in front of him. "I'm going to need a case." Chekov grinned wider as he scooped up the frisbee and began jogging across the grass.

Sulu shook his head and laughed. Even though the announcement was still months away, he did secretly hope the _Enterprise_ would be selected for the five year mission. Jim had always been right. She was the best ship in the fleet and he could think of no better people to spend the next five years with. Sulu grinned as he leapt up from his seat under the oak tree just in time to catch the frisbee that floated through the air.

Chekov cheered loudly across the grass.

Yes, Sulu thought, no better people.

* * *

**Sorry just a short chapter this time... Next one will most likely be longer.**


	9. Chapter 9

Jim's eyes returned to the PADD in front of him as the transport shuttle purred through the open bay doors. A few minutes later the shuttle touched down lightly in its designated spot. Well done, ensign, he thought.

Over the speaker, the shuttle's pilot, Ensign Ricktor, spoke. "We're here, Captain. It'll just be another couple minutes while the bay doors are locked and the chamber is pressurized."

"Thank you, ensign," Jim said into the comm next to his seat. "And nice landing," he added as afterthought, his eyes already back to the PADD in front of him.

The specs for the _Enterprise's_ overhaul had been incredible the first he'd seen them on Spock's tablet more than a month after Starfleet had begun work on the ship. He'd begged his friend to see them and Spock had actually complied even though the specifics were strictly confidential, especially to someone whose reinstatement to duty was up in the air.

Starfleet had thought of everything for the ship's upgrade. Well almost everything. He'd managed to contact a couple of the admirals at headquarters and convinced them to refit the transporters with the warp transport technology they'd been further developing in their labs. Smiling to himself, he wondered just how long he could leverage saving the world and Starfleet again before higher ups would put their foot down.

Jim looked up as the shuttle doors hissed open and the ensign's voice crackled over the comm," Captain, it's now safe to disembark."

"Great," Jim answered. "How long until we take off again?"

"We leave at eighteen hundred hours, sir," Ensign Ricktor said as he stepped out of the pilot compartment and stood next to the shuttle door. "That gives you about four hours."

Jim smiled as he stood and stretched in front of his seat. "Just enough time. If anyone needs me, I'll be down in-"

"Aye, Cap'n. I'm glad ya made it," Scotty's jovial tone echoed through the landing bay.

Jim smile broadened and brightened as stepped out of the shuttle to meet his Chief Engineer. "Scotty, its good to see you. You haven't been planet side much in, what, eight months?"

"Aye. Ever since starfleet insisted on the refit. I canna leave when there's so much that needs ta be done. An' the brass are sayin she needs to be ready to go in four months when there is at least six months of work left to be done."

Jim patted the older man's shoulder and commented, "And if I know you, you'll have the ship ready with time to spare."

Jim listened carefully as they began walking to the lift that would take them both to main engineering and Scotty chattered on about what he had and hadn't yet been able to complete in the last eight months. Both men stepped onto the lift together and Jim requested main engineering as their destination. He was just looking back down at his PADD when Scotty jammed a finger into the emergency stop button.

"Cap'n. I need ta know. Are the rumors true?"

"Huh? What?" Jim's eyes flicked from the PADD to the Chief Engineer, startled.

"The five year mission. Are the rumors true that she... The Enterprise has been selected?"

"Scotty," Jim began.

"Because it would make sense, with all of the crazy upgrades and refits Starfleet has insisted on..."

"Scotty," Jim interrupted. "The truth is I... I don't know. I've only just been given back the ship. I still have a million briefings that I have to go to before I know anything about what the plan is for our future missions." Jim paused seeing Scotty's crestfallen look. "Look. The _Enterprise_ is the best ship in the fleet. If I could put money on it I'd bet we're chosen for the five year mission. And not only is this the best ship, but the best crew Starfleet has. I will fight tooth and nail to get this mission."

"Aye," Scotty said, after a moment of thought. He stood aside and released the emergency stop button. "I don't doubt that for a we moment," he said, with a satisfied smile. "If there's anathin I know about ya, Cap'n, is that you're persistent. I have a feelin within a month, you'll have Starfleet beggin us to take this mission."

Jim laughed softly at his friend. "I hope so," he answered lightly squeezing Scotty's shoulder. "This crew... My crew deserve it."

"Not just us, you deserve this too."

Jim smiled even wider. He might not be perfect, but he couldn't help but feel content knowing that the love he felt toward his crew was mirrored back to him in moments like that. As the doors to the lift hissed open, Jim murmured, "Thank you."


	10. Chapter 10

A blond head of hair, cut just above the shoulders, bobbed in and out of view in the crowd in front of him. Jim knew that hair. In fact, the woman that was attached to that blond head of hair was exactly the reason he'd ventured into the academy's astrophysics labs.

Jim side-stepped a group of female cadets who craned their necks and began to whisper amongst themselves as he strode by. It was just over a month until the _Enterprise's_ rechristening and the news had spread through Starfleet like wildfire. Captain James T. Kirk and crew had indeed been chosen for Starfleet's first ever 5-year deep space exploration mission.

Or maybe they were staring because of his reputation.

Either way, the young cadets were none of his concern today. His only concern was catching up with Dr. Carol Marcus who was already past the hallway and into the building's rotunda and approaching the bank of elevators on the far wall. If he had to wait for an elevator, Jim realized, there was no way he'd catch up to her.

Without thinking he called out, his voice echoing in the large open space. "Dr. Marcus! Carol!"

Carol stopped abruptly and turned to stare at Jim, her eyes wide and startled.

Jim grinned brightly and waved. Ignoring the gathering onlookers, he jogged across the rotunda and gracefully came to a halt within arms distance from Carol. He made a mental note to thank Uhura for pushing him over the last few months. The last thing he needed was to look like a wheezing moron that couldn't even handle a quick jog from point A to point B. "I'm so glad I caught up with you," he said attempting to hide any hint that he might be the least out of breath.

"Captain Kirk, what...what are you doing here?" she asked, her eyes wide and flustered.

Jim shrugged his shoulders. "I was looking for you."

"Me? Why me?" Carol asked glancing at the crowd of staring cadets and officers. Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink and she frowned. Quickly she reached for Jim's wrist. Tugging him along with her, she spoke over her shoulder, "Come on. We should go somewhere less in the middle of everything."

Jim followed her through a wall of glass doors on the far side of the rotunda and out onto a large concrete plaza dotted with tables, chairs, and only a handful of chatting cadets and officers. Here, no one was staring.

He had just opened his mouth when she turned on her heel, abruptly stopping them both.

"Captain, I'm sorry," Carol said suddenly.

"Sorry? Sorry for what?"

"For... Everything. If it wasn't for my father none of this would have happened. Kahn would never have been brought back, never caused the death of all those people in London, never attacked headquarters, never caused all this destruction in San Francisco..."

"It's not your..." Jim interrupted, but she continued, speaking over him.

"And I couldn't even tell you how sorry I felt, because I couldn't bare to look you in the eye after...after everything. But I'm sorry, and I wouldn't blame you at all if you hated me and everything that I remind you of." Carol was to the point of rambling, her words coming out of her mouth so fast she could hardly take a breath.

Jim gripped both of her shoulders in his hands. "Dr. Marcus. Carol. I don't blame you for anything." She looked up at him, her eyes wide again and her mouth frozen open in mid formation of a word. "You're not your father," he said softly.

Jim's hands slipped down from her shoulders and fell to his sides. Carol managed to regain her composure and tilted her head just to the side in curiosity. "Then why? You did say you were looking for me. If you didn't come seeking an apology, then why did you come here?"

"I came here because I'd like you to be a part of my crew."

Carol blinked slowly. "You want me? On the five year mission?"

"Absolutely," Jim answered, smiling sheepishly.

"But what about Commander Spock?"

"Spock doesn't have a problem with it. I believe there's room for one more science officer on my bridge."

"I...I'm not sure what to say," she stumbled over her words. "I, of course, had heard the _Enterprise_ had been chosen for the five year deep space mission, but I never thought you'd have any interest in having me aboard..."

"Are you kidding?" Jim asked running one of his hands through his hair. "Say yes."

"Captain-"

"Call me Jim," he interrupted.

"Jim," Carol repeated, a small smile pressing at the corners of her lips, "thank you, but-"

"There's always a but..."

"But I need to think about your offer."

Jim thought for a moment and then took one of Carol's hands in his. "Look, I know you lost your family, you're father, while you were involved before with the _Enterprise_, but the thing is, the _Enterprise_ itself is a family as well. And I can't see it as being complete without you."

"I'll think about it, Jim." She slipped her hand from between his.

Jim nodded, a little disappointed by the outcome of their meeting. He had hoped he'd come away with a definite yes. After all, who could really say no to Starfleet's biggest mission yet? But at least she'd said she'd think about it. At least she hadn't outright said no. "Just don't think too long. The ship will be rechristened in just over a month. I'll need your decision before then."

Carol twisted her fingers in front of her and smiled sweetly. "I won't, Jim. You'll know... Soon." With that she reached out and squeezed his left wrist and then turned abruptly and strode back to the glass doors of the astrophysics lab.


End file.
